


Five times Mal wanted a coffee, and one time she actually got one

by Ptolemia



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3828823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptolemia/pseuds/Ptolemia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does what it says on the tin, really. Polly works at a coffee shop. Mal likes coffee. The obvious(ish) occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Mal attempts to order a coffee

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt - Polly/Mal coffee shop au. Because I like my cliché fic tropes laid on with a massive fucking shovel, I am making an executive decision that this will also be a five times/one time fic. Rating may increase depending on whether or not I chicken out about writing the interesting bits in later chapters.

“We're closed,” Polly said, her back to the door as it swung open. “We close at five and it's now,” she paused before picking up the last empty coffee cup from the last empty table and glanced at the clock on the far wall, “Five-oh-one. Go away.”

“Well, is that any way to speak to your favourite customer?” said a familiar voice, in such a smug tone that Polly could tell, even before she turned around, exactly the sort of infuriating smirk that would be plastered across Mal's face.

“You,” she said, turning to see – yep, there it was, that smug little grin plastered across that smug little face - “are not allowed in here.”

“So you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That I'm your favourite customer.”

“I- what?”

“I said I was your favourite customer and you didn't deny it, so by process of elimination, I can only assume that it's true.”

Polly sighed. “Mal, you're not even a _customer_ , let alone my favourite. You're banned.”

Mal pouted.

“Banned, Mal!”

“Aww, still? Don't I deserve forgiveness?”

“Banned,” said Polly, very firmly, “For life! You have a nerve turning up here, after the... incident last Tuesday.”

“But life is such a long time, Polly. How will you cope, not seeing my face each and every day?”

 

Polly snorted, breezing past the table Mal was lounging against and turning her attention to the till. “Very well, I should imagine. But seriously, you should go. Jackrum will have a fit if he catches you in here again.”

“Jackrum loves me. Everyone loves me. It's my unique charm.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Can I come back tomorrow, at least?”

“Mal! Do you understand what 'banned for life' means?”

“Yes, perfectly. I just think that it's unfair. I have rights, you know! And Tuesday wasn't _that_ bad, not really.”

“Seriously? After the whole thing with the chalk and the hat? And the camo fabric and the sticks and the- I mean, half a tree, really, where did you even _get_ that? And then the helicopter?”

Mal sighed deeply, fixing Polly with a mournful gaze. “Alright, alright, I admit, that got out of hand. But in fairness, you were depriving me of coffee. I had to make a stand!”

Polly kept her back firmly toward Mal, concentrating on locking the till. “I wasn't- Mal, look, being told to stop after your sixth cup in less than an hour does not constitute 'depriving' you of anything. I didn't want you to die, Jesus Christ...”

“Aww, Pol, I never knew you cared.”

 

Polly turned around, shaking her head - and almost walked into Mal, who had ceased lounging fetchingly across the table and had insinuated herself behind the counter in order to lounge fetchingly there.

“No customers behind the counter!” snapped Polly. She frowned sternly at Mal in an attempt to assert her ability to remain unflustered in the face of fetching loungers at any and all proximities, but the effect was slightly marred by the fact that she had now gone a gentle but distinct shade of pink.

“I thought you said I wasn't a customer?”

“No... no humans of any sort behind the counter, then. Go on, scoot!” Polly nudged Mal's elbow. Mal winked at her.

“I'm not actually a human. I'm a vampire.”

“No, you're not. You're just a pallid dork who wears too much black and still thinks Evanescence is the bottom line in musical innovation.”

“Excuse me! I think you'll find that 'Bring me to Life' was a-” began Mal, and then looked vaguely sheepish. “Alright, alright, point taken.”

“Finally!”

Polly stared at Mal.

Mal stared at Polly.

“So, are you going to... leave?” asked Polly, after a rather longer and more intense bout of close-quarters eye contact than was probably strictly necessary.

“Depends. Are you?”

“What? Yes, of course. I don't live here, Mal. And I have things to do, I'll have you know – I'd have left five minutes ago if you weren't pestering me.”

“Things to do?”

“Yes!”

“Anything specific?”

“None of your business. Now get out so I can switch the lights off.”

 

Mal made no sign of moving, so Polly went and did the lights anyway, jangling the keys as she went.

“What if I'd like it to be?” asked Mal, after a particularly aggressive key-rattle-and-glare combo in her direction.

“Pardon?”

“I mean, uh, maybe we could... I mean if you're not busy we... uh...” said Mal, running a hand through her hair and looking distinctly ruffled in more than one sense. “I mean. I'm free. Now.”

Polly almost dropped the keys. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Mal inspected a speck of dust of the counter very carefully. “Maybe?”

Polly raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, uh, since I guess there's no way I'm getting my coffee in _here_ , I thought, well, there's a place down the road which is open 'til seven and, I mean, the coffee isn't as good but it's acceptable and you could, uh. That is to say, we could, uh. Um. I... alright, yes, I'm asking you out.” Polly had never seen Mal look so uncomfortable. She was squirming slightly, and had taken to staring extremely hard at her own feet, and after a few moments of silence she glanced up at Polly and muttered, “Uh, sorry.”

Polly felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, and she fought the smile for a moment before relenting. “Oh alright. Fine.”

Mal absolutely beamed, just for a second, her normally sleek stance suddenly becoming slightly uncoordinated and lanky. Then she gathered herself, dropped the smile, and sunk back into her habitual lounge. “Always knew you fancied me, Perks,” she purred.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We're not getting coffee, though. I've seen enough of you on caffeine to last me a lifetime.”

“But-”

Polly glared. “We can go on a date, or you can get coffee.”

“But-”

“No buts!”

“Oh, you are such a bully. But fine, fine. Cinema?”

“Suits me. Now, will you kindly get the fuck out of my shop?” asked Polly, offering Mal her hand.

Mal took Polly's outstretched palm in hers, and grinned as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. “Polly,” she said, “I thought you'd never ask.”

 


	2. In which Mal is cruelly forced to drink Capri-sun

Walking to the cinema with Mal in tow turned out, as many things did when Mal was involved, to be immensely more frustrating than usual. The walk, which on a normal day would have taken less than ten minutes, took almost twenty. The reasons for this were as follows – firstly, when Polly had places to go, she went quickly, with purpose. Mal was apparently allergic to hurrying, which Polly surmised might be because swaggering at high speed was probably impossible, or at least would look very silly. Secondly, there were a lot of reflective surfaces between the In-and-Out coffee shop and the cinema, and Mal slowed down past every. Single. One. It was sort of subtle (in so much as Mal was capable of doing anything subtly), but after the fifth or sixth shop window Polly was sure it was happening, by the fifteenth or sixteenth it was getting on her nerves, and after what felt like the fiftieth or sixtieth she turned to confront Mal about it and stopped so abruptly that the damn idiot almost tripped over her own feet, and would have fallen straight onto the floor if she wasn't holding Polly's hand.

“Do you want to get it out of your system, Mal?”

“Get what out of my system?” asked Mal, with a rather more hopeful glint in her eye than Polly thought was entirely appropriate, given that they were, in fact, in public.

Polly gestured grumpily at the nearest shop window, “Your reflection. There it is. Can you just have a good look at it here, and then walk to the cinema at a normal pace? Why do you keep looking, anyway? Please tell me that you've just had a haircut or something. You can't possibly be this narcissistic all the time.”

“Can't I? News to me.”

“You-”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I was actually...”

 

Mal tailed off as she glanced at the window once more, then squeezed Polly's hand and set off walking again, this time at a thankfully quicker pace.

“I was just, uh, thinking,” she said, clearing her throat slightly, “we look cute together.”

Mal was not exactly blushing, but definitely seemed to be a slightly less arctic shade of extremely pale. “Well,” said Polly, after a moment, “saying we look cute together is still at least partly you saying that _you_ look cute. So I maintain that you are a horrible narcissist. But also, uh, thank you. I think?”

“You're a real charmer, Perks, did I mention that?”

“I'm trying.”

“You are. Extremely trying.”

“Hey!”

Mal smirked. “Well, it's true. I'm a narcissist and you're a nuisance.”

“Ouch. Having second thoughts about the date, are we?”

“Hey, I never said that it was a bad thing. Han and Leia made it work.”

“You- did you just imply that Princess Leia is a nuisance? That's below the belt. Calling _me_ a nuisance I can just about take, but insulting Leia is not on. At all. You're awful, Mal, you're... you're such a...”

“Scruffy-looking nerf herder?”

“No!”

“Scoundrel?”

“Stop it!”

 

“You love it,” said Mal, pushing open the cinema door and bowing deeply, motioning for Polly to enter first. Polly glared at her, but obliged.

“I can't believe I agreed to this,” she said, as she stepped inside.

“Neither can I,” said Mal. “What do you want to watch?”

Polly shrugged.

“Tell you what,” said Mal, eyeing the adverts for different coffees at the little cinema cafe with the slightly deranged gaze of the caffeine addict denied a fix, “you can have a think about it while I go and get us some coff- uh... snacks.”

“Oh no you don't!” said Polly, rather sharply. “No coffee. That's a rule.”

“Don't you want me to be happy, Polly?” pouted Mal.

“I want _everyone_ to be happy, and to be able to enjoy the film undisturbed, and to leave with all the limbs they came in with. Once you're caffeinated, I'm not sure if any of those things are likely to happen.”

Mal sighed, gazing at Polly with big mournful eyes.

“Don't even try it,” said Polly, sternly. “You can go choose a film. I'll get snacks.”

“Urgh. Fine.”

 

Polly watched Mal slink away to the ticket queue for a fraction longer than was probably necessary. Mal was a pain, sure, but a pain in a way that somehow managed to be endearing rather than annoying. Also, she had a really nice bum. As soon as Polly caught herself noticing that fact, she gave herself a little shake and turned her focus firmly toward snack choices. Sweet popcorn, or salt? She decided Mal would probably be a sweet tooth, but Mal wasn't here to make choices so she went ahead and bought salt anyway, and a water for herself and, after a moment's consideration, a capri-sun for Mal.

Mal raised an eyebrow at that when she returned from the ticket queue. “Still drinking kid's drinks, Perks?”

“Nope. This is yours.”

“...why?”

“You take yourself too seriously. You should drink fun things sometimes.”

“Most people would expect a little more alcohol content in a drink they were defining as 'fun',” said Mal, holding the capri-sun pouch at arms length and eyeing it with mild disdain, “and personally I would expect a little more caffeine.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say. So, what are we watching?”

“Dracula.”

“Ha ha. Seriously, what are we watching?”

“Dracula.”

“Didn't you say you'd already seen it, like, three times?”

Mal had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed at that. “I happen to appreciate the costume design. And the cinematography.”

“And the vampires?”

“Potentially.”

“I can't believe you.”

Mal winked. “Well, consider it payback. I'm drinking capri-sun instead of coffee and you're watching Dracula instead of... whatever it is you wanted to watch.”

“Literally anything else,” intoned Polly, with a long-suffering sigh. “But fine, fine. I guess I can put up with it.”

“You'd put up with anything to be in my presence,” said Mal, leading the way toward the screen and their seats.

“Remind me again why I'm here?”

Mal made a vaguely lewd gesture, and laughed.

“Mal!”

“What?”

Polly shook her head as she sat down. “You're awful.”

“Takes one to know one.”

  
The adverts went on for what seemed like an age. Mal ate all her popcorn in the first five minutes and then started trying to steal Polly's.

“Stop it!” said Polly, smacking Mal's hand away from her popcorn for the third time in what could not have been more than thirty seconds. “You should have saved yours. Do you not have any sense of impulse control?”

“Nope,” said Mal, with a lazy smirk which managed to be almost as attractive as it was annoying. “None at all.”

Polly ignored her, focusing on the screen as the film itself began. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mal fidgeting slightly, but she gazed stolidly ahead. The title flashed onto the screen in a splatter of blood, and Mal laid a cool hand on her arm, long slim finger squeezing just slightly, then relaxing.

“If you get scared,” Mal whispered, “feel free to grab onto me. I won't mind at all.”

Polly was about to 'shh' her, but the lady in the seat behind beat her to it.

“And-” began Mal, but the lady 'shh'd her again.

Mal glowered.

Polly grinned.

After a moment Mal yawned, stretched, and slung an arm over Polly's shoulder.

“Seriously?” whispered Polly.

“Seriously.”

The lady behind gave another very insistent 'shh'.

“You didn't 'shh' her,” began Mal, swivelling round in her seat, “how come you 'shh' me and not-”

“Shh!” said the lady.

“Yeah Mal,” said Polly, “You heard the woman - shut up and drink your capri-sun.”

And, much to Polly's surprise, Mal settled back into her seat with a grumpy little frown, and obeyed.

 

 


End file.
